The Story of the Rail
by PnF Phanatic
Summary: Phineas Flynn is the off-the-table brains behind the Transcontinental Railroad, a revolutionary, long rail that can not only link the West to the East, but also show the world that the US isn't a British colony anymore. Isabella Shapiro is an Sioux Indian who looks at the train smog clouds gathering in the east, and is frightened. What happens when the rail and the Indians clash?
1. Introduction

**Disclamer**

I don't own anything. This story is too express what happened during the time of the transcontinental railroad, and because I loved the idea. Some historical content may be off by a few decades, or fabricated. Mostly the former, almost never the later. Read, PLEASE don't review. I don't need more stuff in my inbox.

* * *

The sky was blue, the sands of the Great American Desert were stirring in the wind. The vast plains swallowed the horizon, and the place had a homey feel to it, despite the hot weather and bad conditions. This was our home; and our people had lived here for years, lifetimes, generations, ages, eras, standing our own against time.

Yet something was wrong among this beautiful scene.

All around me, there was a lack of the Great Buffalo that our tribe lived from; their hides were our clothing and teepees, their bones were our weapons; their meat was our food. And there were storm clouds gathering from the Far East, where the settlers came from. Those Americans from Far East had come westward, and took our land, and killed our Buffalo, and shot our people.

This seemed… inevitable. I had been told the far away nation called the… United States of America had taken land from our rival tribes in the East, and then started to creep into our lands, slowly, but surely, like the tiger before it pounces on its prey. Then they started to file into our lands is if they owned it. We believe no one owns the land; that it belongs to everyone, but apparently they didn't agree. So soon and so suddenly, settlers were filling our plains, forcing us to move westward and more westward.

We thought it could never get any worse, but it just so happened that it did. Then, one of the Americans had the idea to build what they call a _railroad_ across the entire plains, from coast to coast. This railroad is going to be the end for us. The Chiefs believe that once that rail is complete, even more settlers will come from the West, and force is away from our own grounds, more west and more west until there is no more left for us.

I don't know what to do. I am scared. I am lonely. Our tribe faces utter destruction from what they call 'progress.'

My name is Isabella, and I am one of the Sioux.

**THE STORY OF THE RAIL**

"Alright, gentlemen. It's time for a groundbreaking event in American history. Three major railroad companies, the Western Pacific Railroad Company, the Central Pacific Railroad Company, and the Union Pacific Railroad Company, have proposed a plan to the White House to construct a railroad across all the United States, firmly linking the West to the East, for the sake of American Manifest Destiny!"

A ton of reporters started to ask questions at the podium, snapping pictures and scribbling in notebooks.

"Mr, err…"

"Flynn, madame."

"Mr. Flynn, what do you have to say about the impact of this event?"

"I can very well say that once the West coast is joined by the East, not only will we show the world that America is an industrial superpower, but we will also connect the entire country by ways we can't possibly imagine! We will be able to contact a farmer in Sacramento from Washington via telegram! We can ship wheat from the Great American Desert all across the country, feeding this great nation, helping the economy! We can increase our industries tenfold, and make the United States the industrial capital of the world!"

The crowd of reporters and onlookers cheered as I exclaimed this with emphasis on the betterment for our nation.

"Mr. Flynn, what about the Indians that currently populate the land?"  
My smile lost a bit of its glamour at the thought of pushing the Indians out of their lands. I didn't believe it to be necessary, but people in high places thought they were standing in the way of progress. I didn't want to think about it.

"I am not sure. America had clashed with the Native Americans before, and it did not end well. For them, anyway. I am focused on the rail, and I'll leave other obstacles to the government, because if I know America, I know they'll do what is best."

"Mr. Flynn, when will this marvel of American Industrialism be complete?"

"Do you know when we will do something crazy like put a man on the moon?"

Laughter surged through the crowd as I regained my composure and flashed one of my jokes about progress.

"Mr. Flynn…"

The questions dragged on and on and on. I would have gladly answered them all, but I have a schedule to keep. I made my way to my horse-drawn carriage, and my green-haired brother silently waited for me there, smiling at my success.

"I know, Ferb. I can't wait for all this to take place! And, me being an off-the-charts engineer, I will have a _big _part in the construction of one of the world's longest railroad tracks! Revolutionary!"

Ferb gave his signature thumbs up. The carriage driver was humming a tune that I found quite catchy, so I hummed along to _My Country Tis of Thee_. This coach driver is apparently very virtuoso, and when he noticed me humming along, he began to sing.

_My Country Tis of Thee_

_Sweet Land of Liberty_

_Of thee I sing._

I sang along to the beat of the _clop-clop_ of the horse's hooves beneath our feet.

_Land of the pilgrim's pride_

_Land where my fathers died_

_From ev'ry mountain side!  
Let freedom ring!_

"You've got yourself a fine singin' voice there, lad," said the coach.

"Thanks, mister. I take it you're an Irish immigrant?" I asked.

"Yep. I got to say, your country ain't as amazing as they advertised, but definitely better than being so cooped up in Europe," said the coach.

"Boy I'll say. It's amazing knowing that we don't know everything that's out West yet," I replied.

"Yeah. I remember that once, I took a trip to Britain, and the country's so darn small that I almost memorized the bloody place by the 2nd week!" said the coachman with a laugh. I chuckled along with him, and Ferb, the silent one, gave an amused smile.

"Well here, the country is so large is that colonization begun two centuries ago and we _still _don't know everything there is to know about America!" I replied. The coachman gave a hearty laugh, and Ferb couldn't help but suppress a mild chuckle.

"You're the brain behind the Transcontinental Rail, right, lad?" the coachman asked.

"Yep. They might have other people designing the thing, but I _may_ have manipulated those three companies by tipping them all off about the idea. Then I gave them a rough sketch. However, I am a man of humbleness, so when they offered me half their life savings for the idea, I politely said, 'nope!'" I replied.

"Speaking o' which, aren't you a little young to be taking a part in the Transcontinental Railroad?" asked the coachman.

"Yes. Yes we are," I said with pride. I am just 16 years old, and my brother Ferb is 17. We were young inventors from the start, but we never wanted to take full credit for our ideas. Thomas Edison, Alexander Graham Bell, and Robert Fulton owe us a lot, though.

"We? Who's we?" asked the coachman, and as he looked back, he spotted Ferb for the first time, "Oh my. Your brother is a man of few words."

"Heh heh. Yeah. Wanna sing some other song?" I asked.

"Great idea, lad. How 'bout another national song?"

"The _Star Spangled Banner!"_

"Why not?"

The coachman and I began to sing the first words to the national anthem, a wonderful song that represented the nation as a great one. The song came from a poem made by someone who witnessed the battle of Fort McKinley during the American Revolution. It was patriotic and just plain beautiful for the ears to hear.

_O Say, can you see_

_From the Dawn's early light,_

The horse-drawn carriage drove into a wonderful sunset view at the top of a hill. The scene was breathtaking; I reveled at how beautiful this country was.

_From the ramparts we watched_

_Were so gallantly streaming_

The yellow sun drifted into the horizon, still shining brightly, like streams of heaven coming down from the sky.

_And the rocket's red glare_

_The bombs bursting in air_

The beautiful sunlight slowly began to fade into a spectacular display of orange and yellow, like explosions, rockets, and bombs, yet still so beautiful is at melted into the skyline.

_Gave proof to the night_

_That our flag was still there…_

I could see the city of Philadelphia in the distance, shining behind the brilliant rays of the sun. Philadelphia's Liberty Bell could be seen, while an American flag was hung nearby.

_Oh say does that Star-Spangled_

_Banner Yet Wave!_

We drew closer and closer, and trees enveloped us. The sun sank more and more into the horizon.

_For the land of the free!_

_And the home of the brave!_

The sun finally settled down into the horizon, ending a beautiful sunset. All was quiet, Ferb, the coachman and I were simply enjoying the countryside. We came upon the City of Philadelphia, PI, where I lived. The town was peaceful at night, and a Union soldier saluted the carriage as we passed their iconic Liberty Bell.

_There is no way no one can't be enjoying this beautiful day,_ I thought as we came to our destination, 0104 Summerside Drive, Philadelphia, PI, 12345, a nice little apartment building tucked between the other rows of apartment buildings. Although they were all shades of brown and other dark colors and were somewhat unkempt, this place was my home. I was able to buy it because even though I rejected most company's offers to reward me, some gave me a ton of cash anyway. I didn't want to be too extravagant, so I bought a little place in a nice little community.

_Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,_

_Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home!_

The words of that song drifted into my mind.

"Here's you're stop, lad. Now, you have a nice day. Wow. The journey to Philadelphia from Harrisburg seems a lot shorter than normal. I remember this sayin' from an old ancient Roman text, _'Carpe Diem,'_ seize the day. You do just tha', friends," said the coachman kindly.

"Consider today seized!" I said with a smile. Ferb and I disembarked the coach, and paid the toll, with a handsome tip, as well. We entered our little apartment building. In the atrium, Jeremy was waiting for them.

"Hey guys! How were today's endeavors?" he asked.

"Good! Say, shouldn't you be operating the _Slushy Dog_ stand at Liberty Bell?" I asked.

"I should be, but my boss has 'temporarily' closed down the stand to buy a share in the transcontinental railroad they're building. I'm looking for a new job," he explained.

"You can operate a small _Slushy Dog_ stand on this lot," I suggested, "And I'll pay you a good salary, even though there won't be too many people going through the Summerside Motel," I said.

"That's actually a great idea! I'll go by city hall and see if I can get permits," said Jeremy, and then he was off.

Ferb and I walked over to the stairs, and he and I walked up 4 flights of stairs to the 5th floor, where our rooms were. Like almost all city buildings, on the outside, the walls seemed very crumbly and unmaintained, but on the inside, there were elegant furnishings and a nice, large atrium decorated with a small fountain. Even I sometimes wonder at how the atrium fit in this tiny 5-story building, but not too much.

When we made it to the top rooms, the one reporter in Pennsylvania who wasn't at my announcement at Harrisburg, our big sister, Candace Flynn, was waiting for us.

"Hey Phineas! Hey Ferb! How's your day?" she asked sweetly.

"Really good! I take it you're going to do an exclusive interview?" I asked.

"Phineas, I'm a reporter. Of course that's going to happen," she said with an air of authority.

"Well, you will have to wait a bit. I kind of got bogged down by the 50 something reporters at Harrisburg. And the several hundred people in the crowd. And about 20 of those newly-invented cameras," I said.

"Wow. Journalism and media are really getting more popular. But I _need_ this scoop, Phineas!" she pleaded.

"At least wait until the next morning. I want to get some sleep," I said with a yawn.

"Oh alright. I'm going to go downstairs and see if I can type up something interesting for the Morning Post," she said, defeated.

"Goodnight, Candace," I said.

"Goodnight, Mr. inventor. Mom and Dad would have been proud," she said.

"Yes. Yes they would have," I replied, a tiny tear lodged in my eye.

Ferb held my shoulder, and I smiled. Lawrence Fletcher and Linda Flynn had disappeared one day while they were taking a trip to Yellowstone National Park. One of the marvels of national beauty, yes, but while on their nature trip, they ended up in between an Indian War; Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce had come trampling through the park, trying to reach freedom. My parents had been caught in the crossfire between Indian warriors and the US military. We were later told they died of their injuries. I was only about 13 then. That event seemed to have sparked my brain. All of a sudden, I could understand fundamentals of science that others hadn't even invented yet. A tragedy has high highs and low lows.

I fell into my lavish bed, which was specially crafted by carpenters to look like a raft. It represented exploration. That was my motto, exploring the unknown; prodding at the unseen, and trying to find out the mystery behind a scientific theory. I started to drift away from this world, into my dream world. Just before I blacked out entirely, I could swear I saw the two poor, frightened blue eyes of an Indian girl.

* * *

**Historical Notes**

-While attempting to escape to Canada, Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce fled through Yellowstone National Park. Although the Chief wanted to go through as peacefully as possible, some of his vengeful men disagreed, and a few of the unlucky campers were injured. In this story, Linda and Lawrence were one of the most unlucky. Ultimately, Chief Joseph failed to reach Canada, even though he was but a few miles from the border when he surrendered.

-The Homestead Act of 1862 gave land to anyone who was willing to work it for 5 years. All they had to do was work the land for said amount of time, and then pay about 10 dollars for legal paperwork, and the land was theirs. What the government didn't think about very much were the Indians that already lived on the land they were giving away. Natives were driven even further west.

-Danville hadn't been built yet. I'm pretty sure the term "Tri-State Area" hadn't been invented yet. I try to be as historically accurate as possible.

* * *

Where's Perry?

Where's Doctor Doofenshmirtz?

How will the Indian Isabella and the entrepreneur/inventor Phineas meet?

How will the Transcontinental Railroad end under Phineas's supervision?

Why am I listing questions you might ask me?

The answer to all of these questions is: (Drum roll please...)

Yes. (Muahahahahahahahaha!)


	2. The Beginning of the Journey

_They trudged through the fields, metersticks in one hand, compasses in the other, scoping the territory for their railroad. Their railroad will cut through these plains, and many of the Chiefs believe that that will be the doom of many tribes across the Plains. I see dark clouds gathering pace in the distance…_

* * *

"Rise and shine, Phineas!"

Candace stood at the door to her brother's room, knocking and giving out a soothing wake-up call.

"Today's the big day! You know, where you'll have to take the train to the Missouri River…" she tried. That got Phineas awake in a heartbeat.

"Already?!" he cried from inside his room. "Hang on, I'll be ready in a few seconds!"

There was the sound of clunking and crashing, and soon, Phineas was bursting out of the door, dressed in a simple black, sleek frock coat and dark trousers, complete with a matching bowler. On his face was the biggest smile she'd seen on him since he'd paid a visit to Mister Edison a few months ago. Candace smiled to herself; it was nice to see her little brother so ecstatic.

"Ready to make the journey, Candace!" he said.

"Really?" she said, hand on her hips, maintaining a look of superiority. "Because I'm certain you promised me _something_ in the morning. Which is right now."

"Oh… I will go and get some breakfast. Ferb'll be happy to fill you in," said Phineas, smirking. He, of course, had completely forgotten about promising Candace to give her a story, and was not very intent on doing so.

"Oh, OK," she said dejectedly. She watched as Phineas quickly dashed to the staircases, when something suddenly crossed her mind.

"Wait! But Ferb doesn't—" she was cut off by the sound of the door slamming shut with a snicker, "talk. Smooth move, Phineas."

She began to try to follow him back out, when suddenly a blonde-haired teenager, not older than herself, emerged from the staircase, and Candace almost crashed into him.

"Oh! Sorry about that, mister…" started Candace.

"Jeremy, miss. Jeremy Johnson. And you?" he asked coolly. Candace, who normally locked herself in her study to write a story, had never seen Jeremy before.

"Um… uh… C-Candace F-Flynn, J-J-Jeremy," she said, her crush instinct taking over her emotions.

"Flynn? So you're the owner?" he asked.

"Y-Ye—I mean, No. Well, I guess… I don't know," she stammered.

"OK, then…" he responded, yet again with a calm voice. "Say, would you like to visit—"

"YES!" she responded. Then she covered her mouth, frantically looking at Jeremy to see if he had noticed. Which of course he had.

"Great!" he responded with a smile.

_Meanwhile…_

I snickered to myself as I headed out the doors of my humble hotel. Outside, there was already the commotion of residence of Summerside Street commuting to their workplaces, either on carriages or on foot. There wasn't a great amount of commuters, after all, this area was not as densely populated as one might think, but the thin streets were crowded nevertheless. I made my way to a restaurant entitled _Mac and Donald's_.

I entered the doors of the eating establishment, immediately bombarded by the smell of eggs, bacon, and syrup.

"Ahh… Nothing like breakfast in the morning!" I said to no one in particular.

"Welcome to _Mac and Donalds, _fine sir!" said a polite waitress at the counter, "Feel free to take a seat."

"Why, thank you, miss…" I said, prompting an answer.

"Stacy, sir, Stacy Hirano," she said.

"Good to meet you, Miss Stacy. I'm Phineas Flynn," I said. With an etiquette bow, I took a seat. Stacy took my order of breakfast to the kitchens, and I waited patiently for the meal to come. Soon, 2 new people had entered.

The smaller one, wearing a plain white shirt and denim pants, raised an eyebrow when he saw me.

"Look, Buford! A person with a triangularly shaped head!" he said to his friend.

"You expect me to believe that non—oh. Wow," said the bigger one, once his eyes found me as well. I privately chuckled; the shape of my head was one of the few things even I could not seem to find a logical answer to.

"Do you mind if we sit here?" asked the smaller one.

"Not at all! It's a free country, after all!" I replied with a smile, but I noticed that he shivered somewhat at the word "it's."

"Are you OK?" I asked.

Yeah, he's fine. The nerd's just got some sort of problem with contractions. Ain't that right, Baljeet?" said Buford. He seemed to relish that he made Baljeet shiver again.

The two took a seat across from the table, and Stacy, the waitress, took their orders quickly. After that there was a somewhat awkward silence, as everyone on the table tried to find something to say.

"So… where are you guys from?" I asked.

"I am from India, and my name is Baljeet Rai," said the smaller one.

"I'm from… err…" started his friend, struggling to remember. "I'm from… I don't know. Why should I care? I'm here now. And my name's Buford von Stomm."

"Really? So you're both from other countries? Must have been a long boat ride," I said to the both of them.

"Oh, you have no idea. The waves and winds were the worst on the way to the Immigration Station, and I didn't have any sense of direction for a while after landing. But I pulled through, then I found this little runt here," he said, pointing to Baljeet. "We hitched a ride to this city, and we've been here ever since."

"Wow. Which Immigration Station did you go to?" I asked.

"Heck if I know," he responded gruffly, "Though I think a few people on the ship mentioned 'York.' Is that a city here, too? 'Cuz there's a York in Britain."

"We don't have a York, but we do have a New York City," I responded. "Actually, I heard that there was going to be a huge statue built there by the port where are the immigrants come flooding in. Shame it hasn't been constructed yet."

"An enormous statue?" asked Baljeet. "Sounds rather unorthodox, and difficult to accomplish. I would imagine that it would take years to complete, and a lot of manpower, as well."

Buford grunted and said to me, "I wouldn't mention anything somewhat related to math to Baljeet. Once he gets going, it'll take a small army to get him to stop."

Suddenly, before our eyes was placed a huge platter of food; fresh bread, cooked chicken, lean beef, ripe fruits, and the sweet, sweet absence of vegetables.

"Woah," said Buford simply as he saw the food placed before him.

"Eat up!" said Stacy cheerfully as she walked away.

"My, oh my! Never have I seen such a large amount of food! What did you order, Buford?!" asked Baljeet.

"I don't know about you, but I'm gonna eat this before Dinner Bell here can take all the meat," Buford said, eyeballing me as I took, with a childish sense of ownership, a lot of the cooked meat. I gave out a little chuckle, then dug in.

For the next few minutes, all that anyone heard or said was the sound of food being crunched. After a several courses, all three of us were well-satisfied.

Stacy came around again, and said, "Well, I hope you enjoyed that. You two can pay, right?" she asked the immigrants specifically.

"Uh… What do you mean by 'pay?'" asked Buford.

"You know, the age old tradition of currency, monetary fines, etcetera etcetera," she replied.

"Um… What if I have no idea what to do?" asked Buford.

A booming, much more different voice answered, "Then I will have to kick you out and inform the police!"

I looked over to where the voice came from, and a disgruntled-looking gentleman was standing at the doorway, brandishing a walking stick, expensive suit and tie, and a top hat to match.

"Woah, woah… I honestly didn't know—" started Buford, but was immediatle cut off.

"No one comes into this restaurant and doesn't pay, sonny. Either you hand over the price of one American dollar per meal, or you get out," he said angrily.

"What's an American dollar?" Buford asked. Baljeet and I facepalmed as the gentleman reached a new level of anger.

"Get out of here!" he practically screamed. I intervened quickly.

"Sir, perhaps I could pay these fellow's meals for them?" I asked.

The gentleman cooled down enough to say, "Fine. But you will have to pay extra for their incompetence and their insulting me."

"Fine with me," I said as I fished out a few dollars from one of my pockets. I handed them to him, then hurried the two immigrants out the door and into the crowd of people outside before the angry gentleman could change his mind.

"Thanks, Dinner Bell, for saving us in there," said Buford, seemingly out of breath.

"No pro—Hey! Since when did Dinner Bell become my name?" I asked him with a laughing smile.

"Since a few seconds ago," Buford replied simply.

"How did you know exactly how to deal with that man?" asked Baljeet. "He is a stern rich gentleman of the country! I heard they are not easy to deal with."

"You get used to it after visiting this restaurant various times," I said with a smirk, "And also, I kind of _am_ a gentleman. In case you couldn't guess."

"You're a gentleman? Aren't you a little young to be a gentleman?" asked Buford quizzically.

"Boy, if I had a nickel every time I heard that, I'd be able to buy the state of Rhode Island," I said. This induced a few chuckles from the two.

"I believe it is necessary we go our separate ways," said Baljeet, looking down in disappointment.

"Aww, really? I could spare you a few rooms at this hotel," I said, but Baljeet held up a hand.

"I do not want you to spend any more of your wealth for us. By the way, I do not believe we ever got your name," said Baljeet.

"Phineas. Phineas Flynn. And I insist. The owner of the hotel I could bring you to wouldn't mind at all. I know _I_ wouldn't," I said, smiling to myself.

"I think we should take the offer, Baljeet. I don't know much about America yet, but judging by how that guy reacted when I told him I didn't know how to pay, I'm pretty sure that not a lot of people would offer free beds," said Buford.

"Oh, alright. Lead on, Phineas," said Baljeet.

Enthusiastically, I led them down the crowded streets to the Summerside Hotel, which, during the day, looked much more pleasing to the eye. Apparently, Buford and Baljeet thought so too, especially when they walked through the doors.

"Are you really sure that the owner of this hotel is gonna give us beds here for free?" asked Buford as he admired the decorations.

"Positive," I said, holding a laugh back. They didn't know yet that _I_ owned the place, and I intended to keep it that way for a few more minutes.

"Oh my! It appears that the ground is flooding!" said Baljeet, pointing to water gushing out of a spot in the middle of the atrium.

"No, No, Baljeet. That's just a water fountain. I actually had a heavy hand in the construction," I said.

"Really?" he said, examining the fountain more closely, "There must be a lot of science in this to make it work. The water must be removed at the same rate that which it is placed into the fountain, so as it does not flood, and neither does it recede to a large extent. The result is a beautiful display of water, moving indefinitely until there is an irregularity in the system."

"Wow. Were you a math prodigy in India?" I asked, although I could hear a groan from Buford.

"Somewhat," he replied humbly.

"I'll take you all to the reception," I said.

"What's a reception?" Buford asked as he followed me. I didn't answer. As we reached the reception desk, Buford let out another groan as he realized no one was here.

"We're gonna have to wait—what are _you_ doing, Dinner Bell?" he said, suddenly realizing that I was behind the counter.

I smiled and said, "Welcome to the Summerside Hotel, managed by Phineas Flynn for approximately 1 year now. An associate of mine has informed me that you two have received a free pass into an administrator's room. You two are Buford and Baljeet, yes?"

The two simply stared in disbelief. Then Buford started to laugh heartily, and Baljeet chuckled along with him. I tried my best to maintain a passive look, but soon I was giggling as well.

"You mean to tell me that this _whole_ time, you owned a _building,_ and now we're allowed to be here as long as your generosity allows for it?" asked Baljeet incredulously, "Why not just tell us beforehand?"

"Where's the fun in that?" I asked simply. Then two new guests entered the atrium via the front doors, holding each other's hands.

"Oh, that was great, Jeremy! I _loved_ how you showed me all around where you work!" said Candace happily.

"Thanks! I thought you would have already seen it, though," Jeremy replied.

"I spend a _little_ too much time in the typewriter's room," she said, "Which would also explain why I haven't seen _you_ around."

I watched as my sister talked with Jeremy, and smiled to myself. Turning back to the two, I said, "So, would you like to be shown to your rooms?"

I was interrupted by Candace, who said, "Oh, hey, Phineas! Ferb's been looking for you; aren't you supposed to be on your way to the Missouri River?"

Realization dawned on me that I was, indeed, supposed to be _long_ gone from here by now.

"The Missouri River? Isn't that very far away?" asked Baljeet.

"Well, yeah, but if I want to actually see the Transcontinental constructed, then I will have to take a carriage there," I said nonchalantly.

"Wait! You are going to oversee the construction of the Transcontinental?! I heard about that, it is supposed to be a major accomplishment! Is there _anything else_ you have not told us about yourself?!" said Baljeet.

"I do, but I've got no time! I need to catch a carriage there now!" I said.

"Can we come with?" asked Buford.

"I don't see why not," I replied. Then I turned to Candace, "We'll be at the Missouri River in a few days, Candace! You're in charge!"

"Never thought I'd hear my _younger brother_ saying that to me," she replied with a giggle. She was still holding hands with Jeremy.

"Alright! If we want any chance to make it to the Transcontinental before they kickstart the operation, its best if we immediately get a carriage!" I said hurriedly.

"Aye, aye, Phineas!" the two said.

All three of us rushed outside, and were confronted by two very familiar faces.

"Ferb!" I said, and we gave each other a brotherly hug.

"I brought a carriage man that I thought you may be able to bear being with for the next few days," said Ferb. At the front of the carriage was the same raedarius that had driven us home the day before.

"Hello, lad! I see you've got a few extra passengers, but nothin's the matter abou' tha'. Now come aboard the carriage, if you lot will, and we will set off for the Missouri River!" the driver said.

We all boarded the carriage, and headed west. As we slowly, almost painstakingly slowly, made our way through the country, the others being surprisingly quiet, I couldn't help but realize that these two new people were going to be with me for the next few days. What _adventures_ might come from that! But, despite the new company, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was _missing._ Then my mind drifted to the two blue eyes I dreamt of last night.

* * *

No, the story's not dead. It may seem so, but I'm not giving up on this story. Not now, not ever. I actually have a pretty good explanation, and that involves wifi being disrupted, buying a new TV, getting a few new video games, and being bored, but I feel it not necessary for me to tell all that to you.

Now for the questions you know I won't answer for a few chapters:

Seriously, where's Perry?!

How will this story progress?

Who are the other cameos? Who will they be?

Why am I _still_ listing questions you, the reader, might ask me?

The answer is yes. :P


End file.
